I left PS in May'52, and got on a Cunard Line boat "Scythia" in Southampton (as I recall), and emmigrated to Northern Alberta, Canada. At that time, I was a 14 year old day student, travelling by train daily from Eastliegh (Bishopstoke). I am trying to put pieces of the puzzle together.
Reading through the "Obituaries, eulogies, tributes" was a real mind bender. Instantly transported back 52 years to a time and place which had become mostly meaningless and vague. Strangely enough, I recall a number of teachers but so far have been unable to recognize names of students (on the message board). I well remember the reign of terror of "EO" Jones - having to touch my toes to let him administer his sadistic justice. It all comes back to me - amo amas amat amamus amamus amant. Since my last Latin class in 1952 I have never used it or had the slightest thought of "Latin is a language as dead as dead can be, first it killed the Romans and now EO damn near killed me". Another name comes back to me ( or is my mind confusing time and place). Did we have Len Lecasse for a French Teacher, Biffer Smith for Math.? George Pierce for Nature Study - Life on the River Ouse. "Ferggy" must have left a real impression, what was his specialty? The home room teacher was Jack North East, an art teacher as I recall, and a man I had great respect for. Doc Freeman for divinity - what was that all about? Life has been one hell of a ride, as it turns out very little of it related to what was passed on to me at Peter Symonds. In retrospect, why does the older generation pass on such irrelevant bullshit in which they wish they believed but in passing it on they somehow think it gains credibility. I am as guilty as the ones that went before me, so this is not to cast stones. Just an observation. Life was taught in terms of absolutes - it turned out to be all about relevance. The blacks and whites all turned out to be shades of grey. The world used to have Adolph Hitler now we have George Bush - the more we change the more we stay the same and once again we will find out that might is not right. If we do not learn from history we are doomed to repeat it.
Well do I remember the Merchant of Venice - Mid Summer's Night Dream. who was the teacher - I see him so vividly but a name escapes me. Shakespeare really did have it all figured out " Life is a tale, told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing". unfortunately we never did get to debate that one - God forbid, this must have been an atheist.
To Doug Clew and all, your site is very well named "unofficial nostalgia" and this was as good as any recreational drug, thank you. I am sure I will never put the puzzle together, but the fun is trying. If I ever think I have got it together I will have suceeded in deluding only myself. So you ask, what is the purpose of this posting?
Like everything else don't look for one!!